


2018 Exploration

by InnerWorkings94Imagines



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 19:32:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13771023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerWorkings94Imagines/pseuds/InnerWorkings94Imagines
Summary: collection of small unrelated works written for the GOT category in the year 2018.





	1. Direwolves Land

Direwolves Land 

Ghost was there. He was always there. She felt him before she could see him. His red eyes meeting her Tully blue eyes. A small smile spread as she caught a glimpse of his white fur glistening in the candle light. 

“It is that time again?” she looked at the papers laid out , raven’s that still needed to be answered. Calculations still left undone, positions that are still unfilled that need filled. Her ink had run out, her eyes blurry from reading terrible writing. Ghost always letting her know when she needed to stop before she realized it herself. Walking over he placed his head on her lap, his eyes looking up at her. 

“Does he always do that?” Arya asked, scaring Sansa. Her sister giving that sly smile, knowing her sister can never tell where she is. 

“Normally. He walks me back to my room every night at least. My own Guardian.” Sansa ran a hand over his fur. A scratch behind his ear. She stood up pulling her glove over. “Jon is coming home soon.” 

“I know.” 

“He brings Dragons with him.” Sansa walked with her sister, ghost trailing in front of them. His tail wagging behind. 

“Dragons might be strong.” Ghost stopped turning to look at Arya and Sansa. Sansa smiled looking out one of the small openings in the corridor. 

“But Direwolves rule this land.” Sansa smiled, watching the snow fall.


	2. Help?

Daenery stood in the gods woods, her eyes on the face in the tree. She was wrapped up in several furs, trying to keep warm, yet still failing. She heard a crunching of snow, but didn’t turn to see. She saw red hair under the hood. Lady Stark stared at the face in the tree her hands wrung together. 

“Do you still keep to the old gods?” Daenerys asked after a few moments of silence. 

“No. My mother raised me under the Seven, but my father kept to them. As does Jon.” 

“The old or the new. I doubt any of them could help with what's about to happen next.” Daenerys felt a new presence amongst them. She looked down to see a giant white direwolf walk up to stand next to Sansa. 

“Are you to here help?” Daenerys could feel the blue piercing eyes on her. 

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” Sansa nodded, turning to leave. Daenerys faced Sansa for the first time, her eyes falling on the direwolf. “What’s his name?” Sansa looked down, gave a soft smile. 

“Ghost.” She looked at Daenerys Stormborn. “He follows me when Jon’s not here.” 

“Why would he only follow you when Jon isn’t present?” Sansa looked at the Direwolf who was waiting patiently. 

“He’s Jons. He does whatever Jon says to do.” With a small smile, Sansa left Daenerys, who watched Ghost trail off after her, new questions on her mind.


	3. Stick’em with the Pointy End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested on Tumblr:   
> [[Older]Arya and Ned go to buy Arya her first sword in Tobho Mott’s shop and that’s when she sees the handsome smith (obv Gendry) and sparks fly]

Arya tried to keep her happiness hidden.  It wasn’t lady like to truly smile in large crowds, at least that’s what Sansa was always saying, but Sansa never smiles at anything, at all  anymore. Arya looked up at her father, who was smiling at the people around. 

 

“We are truly going to get one?  You’re not taking me there to teach me a lesson are you?”  Ned chuckled at his daughter. 

 

“Of course.  I wouldn’t lie to you about a thing like this.”  

 

“What did you tell the council?  You had to give them a reason to escape that horrid place.”  

 

“I told them I had some business for Robert in town to take care of, and spending the rest of the day, celebrating my daughter’s birthday with what she wants to do. They couldn’t argue with the first reason, and I wouldn’t let them argue the second.”  Arya smiled, wrapping her arm in her fathers elbow. It was moments like this that she realized where her stubbornness came from. They quietly made their way down to the street of Steel. Arya’s eyes drawn to every sharp dagger and sword she could see.  Many looked well made, others looked like what you could afford for a small piece of silver. 

 

“Which shop do you have in mind.”  

 

“Tobho Mott’s shop, he makes only the best in King's Landing.  Or so I’m told.” 

 

“One that rivals the Armyer in Winterfell?”  Arya teased, already knowing the answer. 

 

“Nothing will ever be like Winterfell’s.”  Arya’s smile fell a little watching her father’s falter into a sad one, if only for a second.  It had been two years since their arriving at Kings Landing, being the hand of the King was daunting in of itself.  Especially when this King didn’t seem to care to be King. The weight of the small counsel had aged her father, more than what he would have liked.  

 

“Will I still be able to keep Needle?”  She asked. 

 

“Of course, this will be more of a companion, instead of a replacement.” 

“And our little secret.”  Arya whispered. Ned’s smile returned, coming to a stop at Mott’s Shop.  Arya took a couple of steps in, her eyes glancing at the swords. 

 

“Are you lost M’lady?”  Arya looked up to see a soot covered man.  Someone who couldn’t be older than Robb would be.  Only a few years older than she. 

 

“Isn’t this an Armory?”

 

“It is, just we don’t normally get M’Ladies such as yourselves.”  

 

“We are in the need of a sword.”  Ned said stepping into view. The boy looked at him, quickly taking notice of the pin.  His head shot down, looking away from him his eyes. 

 

“Anything for the hand of the King.  What size would you be needing.” Ned looked at Arya, who walked around, quickly picking up a small dagger.  

 

“Something that would prefect for someone of her size.”  Arya looked at her father, holding the dagger up. 

 

“Something bigger than this.”  Arya placed it back down. Gendry smirked shaking his head.  

 

“Are your sure you could handle something bigger than this?” 

 

“What makes you think its for her?”  Ned pointed out. Gendry looked at him a little worried, wondering if he had said the wrong thing.  

 

“Ladies aren’t supposed to play with swords.”  Arya pointed out, unsheathing a thin one. She held it up examining it.  The blade twinkled in the fire light. 

 

“Who said anything about playing?”  Gendry quickly replied. His eyes dashing up to her, catching the small smile she threw at him.  

 

“Did you make this?”  Ned asked looking at the helmet.  

 

“Yes, it’s not for sale.”  

 

“What’s your name?”  

 

“Gendry.”  

 

“You have talent.”  Ned handed him the Helmet.  “Your father must be proud.”  

 

“Never knew him.”  He looked at Ayra who was currently twirling a sword.  “Please be careful M’lady.” She swung it around in a circle and landed it at his neck.  

 

“Not a toy right?”  

 

“You know how to use one.”  He stated it more of a fact than a question.  Arya cocked her eyebrow, as she didn’t try to hid her amusement.  

 

“Arya!”  Ned barked.  She dropped it, switching the handle over to Gendry to take.  

“Stick’em with the pointy end, right?”  Gendry returned her smile. He looked down at the handle.    

“Correct M’lady.”  He said, grabbing the handle.  She walked away over to her father.  

 

“I apologize-”

 

“No need M’Lord Hand.  I will make you a custom sword.  For  _ your son _ , correct?”  He nodded towards Arya.  Need looked at his daughter and let out a small chuckle.  

 

“Indeed.” 

 

“Yes, Ladies aren’t supposed to carry weapons, unless its a dagger.  Correct father?” Turning she smiled at her father. “I think  _ my brother _ would love one with a wolf carved in the handle.  For house Stark.” 

 

“Your wish is my command, Lady Stark.”  Arya flashed him one last sly smile before exiting the shop.  Ned Left, wondering what he witnessed between the two, while knowing he was denying the fact he knew to be the truth.   


	4. For the Good of the Realm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request on Tumblr: [Jonsa AU Sansa was betrothed to Jon's brother Aegon but Aegon fell in love with the rose of Highgarden and wants to make Margaery his Queen. Rhaegar thinking he doesn't want the relations between the North and the South getting sour decides to offer Prince Jon's hand instead. Jon and Sansa are disappointed, Jon because he wanted to join the Kingsguard and Sansa because she knows Jon doesn't want her & cause she thinks she loves Aegon but both will marry for duty. Give me angst.... Thanks]

Sansa rocked back and forth in the wheelhouse. The motion upsetting her stomach even further than it already was.  Arya sat next to her, twirling a piece of hair. Her mother gave her a soft smile. 

 

“I’m sure everything will become clearer once we arrive at Kings Landing.”  She patted her daughters hand. Catelyn Stark looked out the window and made eye contact with her husband.  Both of them unhappy in this situation. 

 

“He’s an Idiot.” Arya spoke, not bothering to look up.  

 

“Yes, but he was  _ my idiot _ .”  Sansa whispered.  The small direwolf in her lap, curled deeper into her, the small bundle of fur staying quiet just how Sansa normally would. 

“Stop it.  Nothing can be done, they were married in front of the Seven.”  Catelyn tried to keep her daughter from crying, yet again. 

 

“He won’t even be there, he's hiding out in Highgarden.”  Arya protested. “You won’t have to worry about seeing him.”  Sansa sighed, knowing her sister was never going to understand how she was feeling. 

 

“Sansa everything will work out for the better.  Trust me.” Sansa looked out the window, King's Landing just off in the distance.

“Jon, please you have to listen to your father.”  Elia Martell called to him. Jon put down his sword to look over at the woman who raised him. 

 

“Are you telling me this as my Queen, or as my mother?” Elia gave him a small smile.  

 

“Is there a difference.”  Jon handed the sword off to one of the stewards in the yard.  Walking over he had his head bowed a little. Ever since he was old enough to understand that his mother wasn’t the Queen, he had been fearful of making her upset.  Trying his hardest to not upset her as to loose her love she had for him. 

 

“I’m sorry.  It’s just, this is Aegon’s bride, not mine.”  Jon shook his head, taking a sip of water. Elia smiled at the boy. “I’ve never even wanted one.”  

 

“Aegon made a choice.  His choice might ruin us.  You could help save us. Your father is hoping the northerns don’t take to great offence at the actions of a boy.”  Jon looked at a white cloak that was standing by.

 

“I always wanted to become one of them.  I knew that was my place in life. Protecting my king, my brother, and serving the realm. Now even Aegon has ripped that away from me.”  Elia placed a hand on his cheek, smiling at him. 

 

“You could still take the black if you wish.  Take you far away from this awful place.” Jon shook his head.  

 

“Who would keep Rhaenys in line?  Who would piss off Viserys?” Elia shook her head.  

 

“Even though you did not come from me, your more like me than my own children in some ways.”  She wrapped her arm around his, as they began to walk. “I feel bad for Sansa out of all of this.  Their wedding at been set since they were very young. I doubt she will come of this unsacthed.” 

 

“I doubt any of us will.”  Jon patted her hand, helping her inside and out of the hot sun.  

Sansa sat in the gardens at Kings Landing, watching water dance in a fountain.  Arya was off somewhere, probably trying to bribe a guard into letting ride a horse.  Sansa picked a petal off of a flower, placing it gently in the water. A couple of her handmaidens where standing nearby.  Both not of her choosing. They would whisper every once in a while to each other. 

 

“Sansa Stark?”  Sansa stood up, quickly hiding the flower behind her back.  She immediately saw the Targaryen white hair and curtseyed. Her eyes glancing up to see Princess Daenerys Targaryen standing there with Prince Jon.  

 

“Your Grace.”  

 

“Please, we are to be family, Daenerys is fine.”  She patted Jon’s arm, before wrapping hers in Sansas.  Sansa dropped her flower behind her. “Walk with me?” She nodded, her eyes glancing up towards Jon.  This was the first time she had seen him in a private setting and not since her arrival at Court. 

 

“My Prince.”  She whispered to him, as Princess Daenerys pulled her away.  Once they were out of earshot, did Daenerys dare to speak. 

 

“If I’m not mistaken, today was supposed to be your wedding day was it not?” 

 

“Yes your Grace-”

 

“Please, call me Daenerys, only people I loathe call me that.”  Sansa smiled a little. 

 

“Yes Daenerys.”  Daenerys smiled. 

 

“I apologize for my nephew, he is quite a little dim witted when it comes to matters of the heart.  Had I known he had planned to run off with the Highgarden flower, I would have put an end to their flirting.  She came as my guest. My miss judge in character is what I believe was the cause of all your pain.” 

 

“Please I would not dare to blame you for my misfortune.  If anyone is to blame it should be myself for not being able to keep Aegon’s attention over all this time.”  Daenerys sighed looked at Sansa. They paused walking. She put a piece of hair behind Sansas ear smiling at the girl.  

 

“How pretty you are.  Child you are not to blame. Aegon is to blame.  You upheld your duty while he failed.” She held Sansas hands tightly in hers. “Even though his heart changed I assume yours is still true?”  Sansa held back her tears. 

 

“It is hard to not be after all these years.”  

 

“But if your King and lord Father demand for you to wed another?”  

 

“I will do my duty.  As my king demands.” Daenerys gave her a sad smile. 

 

“As we all must do.”  Daenerys began to walk back to the fountain where Jon was still standing.  

“Please do not think to harshly of my other nephew.  He tends to be quiet unlike how Aegon always spoke when he wanted. Jon talks when he needs to.  Which he never really thinks he needs to Nephew.” Daenerys reached out her hand. 

 

“Aunt.”  She placed Sansas hand in his.  Jon looked at his aunt in a panic.  

 

“You two should walk back to the keep together.  I have a prior engagement I need to attend to.” She waved goodbye while walking back the opposite of where she needed to go.  Sansa quickly curtsied once she got over the shock of what Daenerys had done. 

 

“My prince.”  

 

“Jon please, my lady.”  Sansa let go of Jobs hand while offered his elbow. He took it with hesitation.  Both remained quiet, she heard the whispers of her ladies behind her. 

 

“My lady-.” 

 

“Sansa.”  She cut him off.  “You may call me Sansa.”  

 

“Sansa, that’s a pretty name.”  Sansa looked at her shoes as she walked.  A small smile coming to her lips. “How are you enjoying Kings Landing?”  

 

“Favorably.”  They walked in silence for a little longer.   “If I remember you had wished to join the Kingsguard.”  Jon looked out at the garden around them. 

 

“I had.  But duty is more important than what I would have wanted.”  Sansa felt uneasy at the answer. 

 

“Yes, duty is important to one's family and honor.” 

 

“In our case, the Seven Kingdoms.”   They remained quiet the rest of the time back to the keep.  

Sansa stood at the doors to the sept. Her heart racing, her hands clenching onto her wedding dress for dear life.  She had to do this. Honor and Duty demanded she do it, but this was the farthest things she wanted. A loveless marriage was something is always dreaded.   All she wanted to do in this moment was run. Run to High Garden, beg Aegon to annual his fraud of a marriage and marry her. She was the one who's always loved him.  She was the one who had been there from the beginning there was to supposed to be no one but him. But she knew that wasn’t going to help anything, just a little girls dreams.  She let out a shaky breath as the doors slowly opened, the filled room stood before her waiting. Her eyes searching for something, trying to not cry. A hand came and wrapped hers around his arm.   

 

“You look beautiful.”  Her father whispered to her.  She smiled in desperation, hoping that with him being here it would calm her nerves.  It didn’t. 

 

“Thank you father.”  They began to walk down towards Jon.  He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.  Her heart was beating out of her chest. Duty. For father, for mother.  For the Seven Kingdoms. For the good of the realm. She kept thinking. Once she was standing next to Jon, she looked over at him, her eyes meeting his.  Both knew what was happening. Both could do nothing to stop it. 

 

He married her for duty and honor, not for her sake.  She married him for duty and honor, not for him. The only thing they truly understood about one another was their love for their family and country.    


	5. Repeat in History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At an Engagement party, Sansa and Jon discuss a painting.

Sansa stood in front of a painting of one of her long dead ancestors. The glass of wine in her hand half empty, smiling as she twirled what was left. Her eyes watching the liquid spin in the glass. She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes glancing up at the picture of her one of her many great grandparents. The red hair matched hers, but her the eyes screamed of the northern lords. 

“Hiding away?” A voice called out. Sansa looked over at the door to see her cousin Jon Targaryen strooling in with a bottle of wine. 

“I have nothing against Myrcella , its the other Lannister brats I don’t care for.” She held out her glass for him to fill it up. He smiled, pouring more red wine into her glass. 

“When was the last time you saw Joffrey?” 

“When I threw the ring back in his face.” 

“Lordling that always wanted to be royalty. Only the Gods know why anyone wants to have title of Prince or Princess.” He took a sip of his own wine. He came to stand next to her, his own eyes looking up at the painting. “Who is this?” He asked, his smile was soft. “She's beautiful.” 

“It’s our oldest painting we have. Our great-great-great-great, so many greats I forget how many grandmother or grand aunt. It depends on who you ask..” 

“What’s her story?” 

“Apparently her birth was more amusing than her actual life. Her father was the one of the first King in the North, after thousands of years being warden of the north.”

“I always forget about that.” Jon said. Sansa held her lips to her mouth. He waved his hand for her to continue. 

“Her mother was the Lady of Winterfell. They fell in love during the war of the Queens and the fight against the winters. Unfortunately when it was time for the King in the north to fight the winter, he died during battle. Her name was the last thing he said.”

“That’s sad and tragically romantic.” 

“But he left her a parting gift. Twins to be more exact. One boy, and a girl. That is the girl.” Sansa pointed to the the photo. “Her red hair was a gift from her mother, while her eyes were said to be the spitting image of her father. Her brother looked like their father, just with their mother’s eyes. Opposites, but they were what brought us to where we are now.” 

“What about the mother?” 

“She became Queen in the North, and soon, the Battle between the Three Queens echoed through the land.” 

“Well, at least we know our families are still here.” He finished off his glass. Filling it up again, he poured more into her cup. 

“Yes, our dysfunctional families.” Jon smiled at her, looking between the photo of her. 

“She reminds me of you in a way.” Sansa looked at him tilting her head to the side. 

“Oh?”

“I think it’s the red hair, kissed by fire.” Sansa shook her head. She heard music begin to play outside, the orchestra getting ready for the dancing. 

“We should probably go back out.” Jon stood up, shaking his head. 

“I’ll stay with you if you want. Keep the baratheon bastard away.” He held out his hand. 

“You hate dancing.” 

“Yes, well...I wouldn’t mind dancing with you.” 

“Promise to protect me from the Lions?”

“I Promise.” Sansa slid her hand into his. “But direwolves can kill a Lion.” Sansa smiled, her hand tightening in Jons.


	6. No One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stark Sisters

Everyone in the castle heard her, Aryra couldn’t believe otherwise, she was sure of it.  She knew the voice, one that she remembered hearing in her childhood. When Sansa had a nightmare she was prone to scream.  She hadn’t heard it in so long that she wondered if she was dreaming of her childhood. Quickly Arya grabbed the dagger her brother Bran had given her, running to Sansa’s new chambers.  

 

_ Mother & Father’s chambers _ .  

 

The blade at the ready, she looked at the startled handmaiden outside the door.   _ What good are you? _  She thought, before quickly entering the room.  Sansa was sitting up in bed, her eyes red and puffy, she must have been crying in her sleep.  Her sister’s arms were wrapped around ghost. The white direwolf, looked up at Arya, before turning his head towards her sister.  She was just staring straight ahead. Ghost licked Sansa’s cheek, when she let out another tear. Arya slowly walked over to the bed, sheathing her dagger.  

 

“Sansa?”  She whispered.  It was a voice, she hadn’t heard herself speak in a while.  One she hasn’t used since leaving for Braavos 

 

“After we took Winterfell, Jon came to me asking me which room Ramsay had me lock into.  It was my old room, the one I grew up in. He had everything in the room burned without telling me, set up mother & father’s room for me instead.  He told me it was because I was Lady of Winterfell, but I knew he just wanted me to feel safe again in my own home.” Ghost whined, placing his head in her lap.  The red eyes stared up at Arya. “I can still-” Her breath caught in her throat, she wasn’t ready to talk. She couldn’t. Arya reached out slowly, lightly taking her sisters hand. 

 

“I’ll protect you Sansa.”  Sansa looked at her sister, her eyes a duller light than what Arya was used to seeing.  Her mind wondered, what happened to the girl who dreamed of pretty things, the girl who was always supposed to be loved.  

 

“No one can protect me.”  Arya smiled, looking at their hands.  Her eyes snapping up to met hers. 

 

“Good thing, I’m no one.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by either a video or a gifset, that made a comparison to when Arya says she is no one, and Sansa saying No one can protect me. I don’t remember where I found it, but I thought of this. I hope you enjoyed it.


	7. For the Good of the Realm II

Jon was sitting in the the Godwoods next to the stump that used to be a weirwood tree.  Like his mother’s family, he preferred the old God’s to the new, though as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms he was expected to show faith in the New.  This place for him was his solace, he enjoyed the serenity he felt when he was here. A small direwolf was sleeping on top of his boot. The white fur moving up and down as he was in deep sleep.  The Starks had brought their Direwolves pups that they had found down south with them. They had found the runt of the litter, and it was the youngest Stark girl who pointed out, that Jon was technically also a Stark, if only half by his mother.

 

“I was told I would find you here.”  Jon turned his head to see Lord Stark.  Jon stood up, but his pup did not stir. Jon had a feeling he was ignoring the world, something he wish he could do.  

 

“My Lord.”  he gave a slight bow in his head, but Ned shook his own.  

 

“You are my family.”  Ned came and sat next to him on the stones.  He looked around at the surroundings. “You should see the Godwoods back in Winterfell. Untouched by man, it’s brilliant and beautiful, even when it snows, the woods are peaceful.”  

 

“I would very much like to see.”  

 

“I’ve asked the King if he would be leave of you to travel with us so you can see the North that my 

daughter comes from.  That your mother came from.”  Jon reached down, picking up the direwolf.  

 

“What was she like?  The Queen doesn’t know much and my father never speaks of her.”  

 

“She was fierce like the north.  She could out ride us all on the horse.  Lyanna was strong as she was beautiful.” 

 

“She died when I was born.”  Jon looked at the stump. 

 

“I was there.”  Jon looked at his Uncle surprised.  “She was a fighter till the end. Your father had snuck into the encampment to find my tent the night before the battle.  He told me everything, brought me to my sister. By the time the battle of the Trident was to take place, Jaime Lannister had already killed Aerys and my sister was lost to us.  There was no reason to continue on with the fighting. Robert knew that, once I joined Rhaegar on the field.”

 

“Robert loved my mother?”

 

“He said he did, but I think he just felt like he lost the one thing he was always supposed to have.”  Ned placed a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “In time, the wounds healed and life went on.” 

 

“I’m afraid some wounds last longer than the should.”  

 

“You have the Stark honor in you.”  Jon smiled, looking at the direwolf.  The red eyes blinking open, to see what was happening.  

 

“I am trying to do right by her.”  

 

“Sansa is a tricky child.  She has more North in her than I think anyone believes.”  Ned stood up, looking out at the ocean. “You and I have something in common, other than our blood.”

 

“How so?”  

 

“I was never supposed to marry Catelyn.  My brother Brandon was her betrothed. But once the Mad King killed my brother, our marriage was arranged for the war to come.  Love wasn’t the foundation of our marriage, but it is there now. I love my wife with everything in me. As I know she does me as well.  Having your first born brings you closer together.” Jon nodded, standing up next to his uncle. The conversation quickly turned to other matters, as they walked back up to the Red Keep.  

* * *

 

Jon followed ghost down once more to the Godswoods.  His mind wandering to the journey before them. His father had informed him of his brother’s soon return to King's Landing and for the sake of his wife, the northerners and their pride, Jon agreed to leave King's Landing to return to the north, to Winterfell, in order to spare any harm.  Jon has always wanted to go north, see his mother’s maiden home, but he never wanted to go under these circumstances. He ran into Ghost who had stopped walking. The white direwolf, laid down, his red eyes looking at the female direwolf in front of him. Jon knew the direwolf, it was his lady wifes.  Sansa sat still looking out at the ocean. Jon slowly began to walk towards her, taking a seat next to her. 

 

“We are to leave?”  She asked, but her tone meant she knew what he was going to say.  

 

“Tomorrow, after the morning meal.”   

 

“Aegon is returning isn’t he?” 

 

“He is.”  Jon wished he could lie to her, but he couldn’t.  Ever since he was a child, he could never lie to a woman.  Queen Elia said it would make him a great knight. They sat in silence for a while, the sound of their direwolves lightly playing. Mostly Ghost seemingly trying to impress Lady, but she remained unmoving.  

 

“All I wanted when I was young was to marry Aegon, give him little princes and princesses and be his queen.  Be there for him.” 

 

“All I wanted was to be the Lord Commander of the King’s guard, protect him from harm, protect my family.”  Sansa gave a soft smile. 

 

“Aegon hurt us both.”  Sansa looked at Jon for the first time since he sat down.  

 

“In truth, I’ve always wanted a marriage like the one my parents have.  One of trust and love. I thought Aegon was the way to that dream, but he isn’t anymore.”  Sansa paused, her eyes darting to her hands, her hair falling in front of her face. “Do you think you could love me?”  Jon gave a soft smile, his eyes finding hers. 

 

“I think I could.”  Jon moved a piece of hair behind her head.  “Do you think you could forget him, in your heart?”  

 

“I’ve already started.”  Sansa smiled at her lord husband, the setting sun, casting a beautiful light over his strong features.  She could learn to love that face, for the rest of her days and she knew it.

* * *

 

“Keep your shield up.”  Jon said said to Rickon Stark.  He nodded, the boy was coming into his own as a young man.  Rickon was a wild fighter, but one that learns quickly. Lord Eddard Stark watched with his own son, Robb Stark from the side.  

 

“He’s still a skilled fighter even after all this time.”  It had been twenty-six moons turns since Jon came north with the Starks.  Taking up the Master of Arms position until they could find a replacement, since they had lost theirs on the travel home.  

 

“He's a good teacher and a good fighter.”  They were all laughing as Rickon suddenly stumbled in the mud, his laugh echoing throughout the courtyard.  Suddenly Ghost appeared, his bark shattering the peace. Ghost was not prone to bark, at all unless it was of dire trouble.  

 

“Wasn’t he with Sansa and Mother?”  Robb asked Jon. All four men quickly followed the white blur into the Godswoods, where Sansa was clutching her stomach.  Her mother trying to calm her. Lady was sitting patiently next to her, trying to give her comfort. 

 

“We need a maester!” Catelyn yelled, her smile wide.  

 

“It hurts!” Sansa screamed.  Jon rushed over to her, quickly picking her up.  

 

“Don’t just stand there!  The Baby is coming! Jon we need to get her inside.”  Catelyn quickly took control as Rickon ran back to the castle walls to call maester Luwin.  

 

“Mother!”  She yelled gripping her hand.  

 

“Don’t worry, it will be over soon!”  Her mother was so happy, Robb helped Jon carry her back inside.  

 

“Jon!” 

 

“I’m here wife.”  She pulled on the back of his hair, her strength stronger than he thought.  

 

“Don’t leave.”  He smiled, helping her to the closest bed.  

 

“It’s not proper for the father to be-”   Robb started, before Sansa hit him. Lady growled from the corner, her direwolf freighting him.  

 

“Than you get out!”  She let out another scream gripping Jon’s hand tightly.  She looked at him, scared. “It hurts, it hurts so much.”  

 

“I know, you're doing great!”  Jon stated. Catelyn joined her on her other side, brushing her daughter’s hair out of her sweat covered face.   

 

“Your going to be a mother soon.”  Sansa began to cry through the pain.  She turned to Jon, her smile big.

 

“I love you husband.”  She whispered. 

 

“I love you wife.”    


	8. Winter has Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Give me angsty™ jonsa frenemies who have to team up during a zombie apocalypse and fall hopelessly in love with each other.]

The Stark Family and the Targaryen family were not exactly friends, yet they were not exactly enemies.  Their paths have crossed in the passed, but each time, they had departed on somewhat bitter terms, yet either family couldn’t bear to harm the other, unless a few cuts and bruises didn’t count as severe harm.  Since the rise of the White Walkers, the world has been plundered into an internal snow. The Starks have endured for thousands of years in the middle of it all, but with the newest wave, they have been forced south.  

 

The second wave was not something they had expected.  They had found themselves at the Targaryen’s door, asking for shelter, if only until the next wave hits.  Rhaegar Targaryen, being the gentleman he was, offered their family and the few men they had a place to stay for the time being.  But no one was sure how long they had until the White Walkers came further south. 

The sun was soon to set, in another hour or two.  Jon pulled out his pocket watch, wondering when he was to be relieved of duty.  Walking the wall was fun, but knew he had been out here much longer than he normal was.  “Aegon.” he hissed under his breath. 

 

“Last time I saw him, he was running off with a maid somewhere.”  A female voice startled him. Turning he saw the oldest Stark girl, dressed in a gentleman’s clothes, holding what looked like rifle.  Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, the red locks fraying at the ends. Even in men’s clothes she still was gorgeous. 

 

“When did you get here?”  

 

“A couple of minutes ago.  I was walking the southern border, Arya just relieved me of my own duty.  Thought I would come and look at the river.” The castle was located next to a river, for an easy escape.  The White walkers couldn’t swim, and they stayed away from the water, only ever getting a foot close to the edge.  

 

“I almost didn’t recognize you in your attire.  It's odd to see you out of a dress.” He joked, but she didn’t laugh. 

 

“Desperate times call for Desperate measures Targaryen.”  She looked out at the sun lands, her blue eyes casting a gaze that he wished she looked at him like that.  One of wonder and beauty. He didn’t know what to say, afraid of upsetting her next. Sansa broke the silence.

 

“My mother told me the story of the last time everyone united to defeat the white walkers.  They thought they had gotten them all, so they stayed dormant for thousands of years.” 

 

“Everyone knows the story.” 

 

“Do you know who conquered them?”  

 

“Um...Some stark?”  Sansa smiled, shaking her head. 

 

“Your not fully wrong.  The story goes that only with a targaryen and a stark could the white walkers be defeated.  He in battle and she with the people. He fought them, while she protected what truly mattered.  Life. They say his name is Aegon.” 

 

“Like my brother.”  Jon looked out at the river and the green trees.  

 

“But he grew up as Jon, under the Starks banner.”  She smiled, his eyes finding hers. “He married the Stark, the Stark girl who saved the people.”  She turned about to leave him to go back inside. 

 

“What was her name?”  He called to her. She turned around continued to walk away.  

 

“Sansa.  Queen of the North.”  Giving one last sly smile, she quickly walked away leaving Jon to ponder on the consequence.    

 

* * *

 

Sansa was cutting her meat, a deer that Robb had caught earlier on the hunt.  The Smaller the pieces, the more she feels full, at least that’s what she taught herself.  The deer slices where little compared to the food she used to eat as a child. But she was a lucky one, she had meat on the table.  She even had a table. 

 

Sansa was sitting in between Jon and her brother Rickon. Sansa was often in charge of Rickon, at least when it came to meals.  Though the boy had grown up a lot since the winter had come, he still needed more growing up when it came to table manners. A boy of 8, he was a still a handful at times.  

 

“Use a knife.”  She whispered to him.  Rickon put the fork down, with the whole piece of meat on it, before reaching over and grabbing a knife.  

 

“You look different tonight M’lady.”  She heard Jon whisper from her right, his eyes glancing over her dress.  She turned to him, giving a small smile. 

 

“Which do you prefer?”  she flirted back, or at least tried to.  

 

“Which do you want me to?”  He smiled, taking a sip of wine. 

 

“Neither.”  Jon choked a little on his wine, his cheeks turning a slight pink.  He looked over to see his Father’s disapproval at his behavior flash for a second on his face before returning his attention to everyone else.  

 

“I hate to bring it up, so soon after you arrived, but my staff needs to know.  How long do you plan on staying with us Ned?” Elia Martell gives her husband her own disapproving looks, while she cuts her meat. Rhaegar is quick to avoid making eye contact with his wife.  

 

“Not long.  We only need a few more days, while he hunt for some Dragonglass and Valyrian Steel in the old battle grounds.  We will be out as soon as we can manage.” Catelynn gives him a look, making him remember to be curtseys. “Our family is in your debt for the hospitality you have shown us.  I don’t know if we would have found shelter anywhere else from the coming winter.” 

 

“Do you believe you could return home, to the North?”  Elia Martell asked. Ned shook his head, a sadness swept over him. 

 

“I’m afraid, the north is lost of us, until we can find a way to defeat the Winter once more.”  Ned took a sip of his own wine, before returning to his meal. 

 

“If I had dragons, we could win this war in a matter of days.” 

 

“You couldn’t control them long enough to win a war.  Dragons are strong, and you can’t even beat a girl in dueling.”  Ayra retorted back to him. Aegon glared over the table at the smirking girl.  Sansa rolled her eyes, wishing this dinner would end. 

 

* * *

 

Sansa sat by the old God Tree in the cutdown Godswoods.  Her hand resting softly on the white stump that used to hold a face.  The starks had been with the Targaryen’s going on a two months now. Everytime they bring up leaving, Elia finds a way for them to stay.  The starks are better hunters than they are, food is more plentiful since they had arrived. Sansa wishes they wouldn’t drag out leaving anymore, she soon won’t be able to part with Jon.  

Jon quickly sits beside her, his chin resting on her shoulder.  

 

“What are you thinking?”  He whispers. She places a hand over his, their fingers intertwining.  

 

“Leaving.  I don’t believe I could part from you and ever be the same again.”  She holds back her tears. He walks around to kneel in front of her. 

 

“Don’t think like that anymore.”  He wipes a tear from her cheek. 

 

“I can’t help it.  Father is getting more anxious every day, and you know who the Starks and Targaryens are.” 

 

“But we aren’t like that.  This generation could be different.  Like during the first winter war. You said it yourself.  Stark and Targaryen working together wins.” 

 

“They haven’t since then.” 

 

“Well, we could change that.”  He stood up with her, embracing her.  His lips on hers, while she smiled into his embrace.  “I want to Marry you Sansa Stark. I don’t want to part from you again.”  She smiled up at him, shaking her head yes. Before she could say anything back, she noticed white snowflakes falling into his hair.  Jon’s own horror showed as they fell around them. Sansa looked towards the trees. 

 

“Jon!”  She yelled in horror as a blue eyed decomposed deer limped into the clearing.  One it’s back hooves was missing, his face half gone. Jon quickly unsheathed his sword, hacking the thing’s neck clean off, before stabbing the skull into nothing.  He grabbed her hand, both running as fast as they could back to the castle, to alert the others. 

 

_ Winter had Come.  _

 

* * *

  
  


Sansa was quickly packing her things in the room she shared with Arya and her mother.  She was holding back her tears, while Arya was silent for once. Quickly she hurried and put on her own riding clothes, knowing that they would be riding by dusk.  

 

“Why do we have to go again?  Why can’t we stay and fight?” Arya asked.  

 

“You know exactly why.”  Catelyn reminded her daughter.  The starks tried to fight once, they lost their Uncle Benjen and almost lost Bran in the fight.  Thousand of their followers were lost as well.

 

“I think this is a terrible Idea.”  Elia said from the door. She was in her own riding clothes, looking at the girls.  Her daughter behind her. “We finally came together, we need to stick together.” She walked into the room, gripping Catelyn in a hug.  

 

“Yes, well the men are not to smart sometimes.”  

 

“They think numbers will be to large.”  Sansa put out, whipping her eyes before anyone caught sight.  

 

“Sometimes large numbers are a good thing.”  Arya spoke up, fastening her belt.

 

* * *

 

 

“Before we split up we must talk about it!”  Catelyn spoke to both in front of the family.  Everyone was in the stables, ready to leave at any time.  The snow had begun to stick, the White Walkers not far off.  

 

“I will not hear anymore.  Rhaegar is heading towards Dorne, while we are headed to Essos.” 

 

“Westeros is our home Ned!”  Catelyn seethed at him.

 

“We are only stopping to pick up my family that is left before joining you in Essos.  Gaining numbers before coming back.” Elia mentioned. She gripped Catelyn's hand. 

 

“But that is all the while meaning to stay together. Once we make it to Essos who knows how long it will be if we meet again.”  Catelyn gripped Elia’s hand tighter. 

 

“On what agreement?” Rhaegar looked at both of them.  “Our families have not gotten along in the past why should it be any different now?”  He reasoned back. 

 

“How about a marriage agreement?”  Sansa spoke up. She took a step forward from where all the kids were together.  Jon reached out grabbing her hand. Sansa smiled back at him. 

 

“You promised didn’t you.”  He smiled back at her, stepping forward with her.  

 

“I wish to marry her father.”  He spoke. 

 

“Sansa-” Ned began but she cut him off. 

 

“The Targaryens and the Starks have not gotten along since the first Winter’s war.  But during it, it was a Stark and a Targaryen working together that ended it.” 

 

“A marriage is something that shouldn’t be-” 

 

“It’s not father.  I already asked Sansa to marry me and she agreed.”

 

“We don’t have to do it know.  We can wait till Dorne, a journey south together.  Would you agree to that?” Sansa gripped Jon’s arm.  He held her close, her tears starting to come once more.  “Apart isn’t always the best answer.” Jon put out. 

 

Ned looked at Rhaegar both of them nodding. 

 

“If you still wish to marry, we will ride as far as Dorne.”  Ned agreed. 

 

“But we must hurry.  The snow is getting worse.” 


	9. Popcorn!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: [I’d Love to read Arya x Gendry with something Halloween related]

Arya starred at the tv screen her head tilted to the side, slowly putting in a piece of popcorn.  She seemed bored to anyone who would look at her. Her eyes tilted to the side, to see her boyfriend, Gendry, clinging to the bowl for dear life.  Arya rolled her eyes as her eyes went back to the horror movie. 

 

Just as the man with the chainsaw was about to come on, the doorbell rang, causing Gendry to yell throwing the bowl of popcorn up in the air.  Arya glared at him, brushing some popcorn out of her hair. 

 

“Don’t answer it!”  Gendry called, hiding behind the sofa.  She rolled her eyes, opening the door to find 4 Trick or Treaters.  

 

“Trick or Treat!”  Comes from outside.  Gendry relaxes, while Arya laughs.  

 

“It’s Not funny Arie!”  He yells. Arya gives candy to everyone, smiling at all of them.  Closing their door, she makes eye contact with Gendry locking the door.  Turning off the porch light, making sure everyone knows they don’t have anymore candy to give, she makes her way to the couch brushing some popcorn off.  

 

“I’ll protect you.”  She laughs opening her arms.  He wiggles into her lap, grumbling the entire time, before they found a comfortable position.  Brushing off some popcorn in his hair, she kisses his forehead. 

 

“It’s still not funny, you know I don’t like horror films.”  

 

“Happy Halloween.”  She pokes his side, making him jump.  “Scaredy cat.” 


End file.
